


If These Scars Could Speak (They'd Scream)

by ForceMage56



Series: The Phoenix Never Dies [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: BAMF Jason Todd, Battle in the Center of the Mind, Do not fight Jason Todd on any battle field, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason goes through the ringer again, Mind Control, Sequal to One Reason, Sort Of, Things get revealed, Things stay hidden, you will lose
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2020-10-29 12:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20796761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForceMage56/pseuds/ForceMage56
Summary: Sequal to One Reason.Jason wakes up covered in bandages with no clue why he's beat-up or where he is. Naturally, it goes downhill from there.





	1. Second Verse, Worse Than The First

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Sequal Time!
> 
> So this takes place a few months after Apocalypse on Hold and over a year after the epilogue of One Reason. You could read this without reading the rest of the series but I don't recommend it. You will be very confused.

Jason’s never been someone who wakes up slowly.

A childhood on the streets of Crime alley compounded with Bat Training, Shadows Training, and his little stint under Arkham means that he is either wide awake or dead to the world. Unless a truly phenomenal amount of drugs is involved he can go from fast asleep to snaping someone’s neck in less than a second.

So when Jason finds himself forcing his way through a thick haze in an attempt to reach consciousness he knows something is wrong.

As he manages to extract more and more vital brain functions from the fog he realizes two things.

One, he’s injured and whatever he’s been drugged with is making it so he can’t feel what type of injuries lay under reams of thick gauze.

Two, he’s not in his safe house. The sounds of various monitors and bright white light claw through the haze of drugs. Stabbing into his brain like needles laced with nitroglycerin.

The heavy restraints on his wrists and ankles are the next thing that registers.

Enemy territory, great. The only question is, who’s got him?

Jason lets his battered senses wander. Sedatives don’t usually work on him thanks to the Lazurus pit so he must be on the good stuff. He’s in what seems like a decent an infirmary and not in some dingy basement. Add that to the fact that his wounds have been treated professionally it’s doubtful that he’ll be killed once they realize he’s awake so that cancels out the usual lowlifes.

Which just leaves anyone who thinks he’s worth more alive than dead and has the resources for this kind of trauma care.

Which is even worse.

So, who would put this much effort into keeping him alive?

Jason can already tell that he’s not in the Batcave or at Dr. Thompkin’s clinic, and it’s far too quiet to be a hospital. He may be in a safe house with a well-stocked medical suite but something in him doesn't buy that. This place feels familiar, and it puts him on edge.

Every fiber of his being is screaming that he’s in danger and he doesn't know why. His body knows where he is but his mind hasn't caught up yet.

He keeps his breathing and heart rate steady as he tries to put together what is wrong with this picture.

Then as oxygen fills his lungs it hits him. The air is wrong.

The air that fills his mouth and skims over his tongue tastes the air inside of an airplane. Cold, rough, with a faint hint of metal. Recycled and pressurized for a sealed environment with artificial gravity.

He’s on the watchtower.

Fuck.

* * *

Abby glares at the clock mounted across from her desk.

You’d think that the new head of psychiatric’s at Arkham would have a more consistent schedule than a lowly intern but no. This place truly never sleeps.

She’s been going over patient files and treatment plans for hours and there is still so much left to do.

So when the door to her office opens she’s half relived and half annoyed.

Which swiftly turns to gratefulness when the sent of coffee reaches her.

“Please tell me that’s for me.”

“No, I'm just here to needlessly torture the only competent doctor we’ve had in ages.” Aaron Cash grins as he holds the mug out to her.

“Thank you, Warden,” Abby says happily accepting the steaming mug.

“You’re still calling me that? Come on, call me Cash. You’re the whole reason I was given this job in the first place.”

“I simply explained to the parole board that the reason things got to the way they were was due to Boles and the other corrupt guards and that firing the entire guard would cause more problems than it would solve. Your name didn’t come up once.”

“Well, whatever you said it convinced Bruce Wayne and here we are.”

“And here we are.” Abby sighs glancing over at the tower of files next to her desk.

Before the call of responsibility could drag her back into the doldrum of paperwork Cash’s radio springs to life.

Cash’s fingers fly to his earpiece. “Cash here… Say that again!”

Cash looks down at Abby with wide eyes. “We’re on our way.”

Abby’s already out of her seat. “What happened?”

“We’re needed outside. You won’t believe who’s asking you.”

“I just might,” Abby says as she grabs her lab coat from the back of her chair.

They’re out of Administration in record time. Abby skids to a stop when she sees who’s waiting for her.

It’s not who she expected.

Superman land in front of her.

“Dr. Atwood.”

“What’s happened?” If Superman’s here and not one of the Bats something is seriously wrong.

“There’s an emergency. Batman will explain everything to you once we’ve arrived but we need to leave now.”

“Of course,” Abby turns to Cash. “Dr. Mayweather is in charge until I return.”

Cash nods. “Good luck.”

I’m going to need it. Abby thinks grimly as she turns back to face Superman.

“I’m ready.”

With that, they are flying.

* * *

“All the charges are set.”

“Everyone’s in place.”

“Starting the countdown now.”

“Infiltration begins in T-minus- Bzzzzzz


	2. Claim your Weapon, this ain't Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm job hunting and bored so here's another chapter. Enjoy!

Abby manages to keep her feet under her as they exit the Zeta tube but it’s a near thing. Thankfully a hand reaches out to steady her.

“Dr. Atwood, I presume.”

“Yes-” Abby raises her head to look at the person who caught her.

Black Canary offers her a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for coming in on such short notice, we have a tricky situation on our hands.”

“So I’ve been told. What can I do to help?”

“Here’s what we’ve been told.” Black Canary says as they walk through the halls. “There was a massive explosion they took out a compound in the Himalayas. Multiple casualties all burned beyond recognition and one survivor.”

The corridor ends and they walk into a room. People turn to look at them, at her, as they enter. But all Abby sees is the monitor on the far wall.

“Ghost.” She breathes.

Jason’s lying in a bed in some kind of medical suite. Bandages covering his upper body and an IV in his arm. A white blanket covers him from the middle of his chest down. Abby’s eyes narrow at the brown leather tying his wrists to the bed.

“The restrains…” Abby starts.

“Just to make sure he doesn’t aggravate his cracked ribs when he’s coming around. He’ll be able to slip them easily once he’s awake.” Red Robin says as he walks up to her. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’m glad you called me,” Abby says returning her gaze to the screen. “What happened?”

“We don’t know. All that’s left of the compound is smoking ruins. Jason doesn’t have any burns and judging from his injuries he was caught up in a concussive blast and managed to get out of the building before it caught fire. We found him 50 feet away from the main building passed out in the snow. We still don’t know who owned the compound, why Ghost was there, or what caused the fire.”

“But he was caught in an explosion.”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” Abby runs a hand through her hair. “I need to be in there when he wakes up.”

“Batman’s already given you access-”

“Hold on  _ what _ ?” A voice protests behind them.

Red Robin sighs. “Yes, Lantern?”

Abby turns around to find one of the Green Lanterns standing behind them.

“First that kid shows up on the watchtower a year ago with a new identity and Bats draped over his shoulders like a peace offering, then a compound blows up taking half the mountain-side causing an avalanche that required League intervention and he just  _ happens _ to be the only survivor, now Batman is having a psychologist brought up here is and is more concerned with our only suspect’s mental state then interrogating him. What’s wrong with this picture?”

“We’re not going to get any answers out of Ghost if we start blaming him right out of the gate.” Red Robin responds. “We don’t know what happened and if we start treating him like he’s guilty he’ll shut down or he’ll bolt. He’s our best and  _ only _ lead and right now, as far as he knows, he’s injured in enemy territory.”

Tim looks at Abby. “Dr. Atwood is our best chance to get him to talk to us. She’s worked with him before, he trusts her. Maybe she can convince him that we’re not out to get him and that we actually intend to do our jobs.”

The Lantern doesn’t look convinced. “And if he did it?”

“Then he did it,” Abby says simply. “And you go from there. My only concern here is Ghost’s mental health not what happened on that mountain. I’m not on any side and I’m not here to influence anything. I am here to do my job.”

“That’s good to hear,” Canary says, “I’ll show you to the med bay. Batman’s waiting for you.”

Before Abby can reply, all the lights in the room turn red and an alarm starts blaring.

* * *

Alright, he’s on the Watchtower. That’s not good, but it’s also not enough to doom him on its own.

It’s the  _ why _ that Jason’s worried about. More importantly, why doesn’t he remember why he’s here.

The last time he woke up with no memory of what happened it was because he went Lazarus fueled bender.

If that’s what happened, if the anger took over again, if he hurt someone- killed someone while he was- 

If that’s what happened he’s  _ screwed _ .

On the other hand, if they thought he was a threat they would have restrained him with Bat-Tech, not the simple leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles. Getting out of them would be child’s play.

So, the chances of Lazurus rage-induced memory loss are slim, but he’s not out of the woods yet. He might not be in a straight jacket, yet, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. He needs more data and he’s not going to get it by just lying here.

The only question is, is he going to make his situation worse by getting out of bed? Can he even get out of bed? He still doesn’t know the extent of his injuries or how long he’s been out. Should he wake up or should he put himself in a trance so they can’t interrogate him? Hell, he doesn’t even know if Manhunter or any other telepath is up here or worse monitoring him right this second.

Fuck, he never thought he’d miss Arkham. At least there he knew how much trouble he was in.

Right now? He could be headed straight into the jaws of another nightmare and not even know it.

Silver lining? He’ll miss his check-in if he hasn’t already. If Talia doesn’t hear from him she will kick over every rock, city, and cape until she finds him.

The Bats know this, Tim knows this.

Tim knows about some of the darker corners of Jason’s mind and what could happen if someone starts poking around in there.

Jason still only trusts the kid as far as he can throw him but Tim hasn’t let him down yet.

So, for now, he’ll sit tight. Play possum and gather information. Rushing is the worst thing he can do right now-

All the monitors cut out at once, the burning white light turns red behind his closed eyes, and an alarm starts blaring. It only takes a few seconds to realize that it’s the alarm for an armed intruder.

Welp. At least he has a reason to get out of bed now.

* * *

“Breach of Watchtower is a go. I repeat, the breach of the Watchtower is a go.”

“Good, now get in there and get me some names.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a horrible person :)


	3. Raise the Stakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!
> 
> Good news, I found a job!
> 
> Bad news, Nanowrimo starts in less than a week.
> 
> So this will be the last update for a while because I will be spending all of November trying to write a 50,000-word book and losing my mind. If anyone else is planning on also doing Nanowrimo I'm on the official NaNoWriMo site, same name as here. Feel free to send me a friend request, we can all suffer together!

Thank god for air ducts.

Jason peers though the grate as the duct he’s been crawling through comes to an end.

If his memory of the watchtower blueprints is correct then the lockers for the medbay should be…

His eyes fall on his gear. Jackpot.

He pries open the grate and drops down into the room. A quick check of the room later he’s doing a quick inventory of what he has.

His sidearm is gone, not surprising. His hood and his faceplate are also gone, actually surprising. His grapple is here, so’s his combat knife, a set of throwing knives and his armor is intact.

His ribs twinge as he suits up. Bruised from the feel of it. That seems to be the worst of the injuries other than some superficial cuts and bruises.

He still has no idea how he got injured but now he’s got bigger problems.

Invading the Watchtower is not just something you do on a whim. You need transport, a plan of attack, an exit strategy, a lot of luck, and a damn good reason to willing walk into this lobster trap.

Whoever’s up here is either really smart or phenomenally stupid and has a lot of resources at their disposal.

The alarms cut out suddenly. The lights go too, changing from bright flashing red to a dark steady red and a bulkhead drops over the exit to the room.

The lockdown protocol. Jason realizes as he pulls the last bits of his gear into place.

Those bulkheads are strong enough to slow down Superman. They are designed to shut down movement throughout the tower so the rooms can be cleared one by one. Lockdown can be activated from any computer terminal but it can only be disabled from the central computer core.

So either the tower’s been attacked by a heavy hitter and a Leager activated Lockdown to slow them down or the invaders knew about the protocol and activated Lockdown to slow down the League response.

Both are extremely not good but there’s only one way to find out what’s happening.

He needs to get to the central computer core.

Of course, to get there he has to avoid both the Justice League and whoever’s invading the tower all while navigating around the lockdown protocols which have definitely been changed and upgraded since he was Robin.

Arkham all over again.

Oh well, second verse the same as the first. Time to get to work.

* * *

Abby paces around the corridor they’re trapped in while Red Robin pries open the control panel next to the door.

They had been headed to the medbay when heavy bulkheads had dropped over the corridor entrances and exits, trapping them inside.

“So,” she starts, “how bad is it?”

“We’re either looking at a heavy hitter, someone who could overpower multiple leaguers or someone who knows enough about our security protocols to use them against us. Either way, this isn’t good.”

“And with the lockdown protocol, you’re flying blind.”

“Not necessarily. I helped design the security protocols for the watchtower. Lockdown is designed to restrict movement throughout the tower, not communication. As long as the Blackout protocol hasn’t been activated we should be able to establish communication with other areas of the tower.”

“What about getting a signal back to earth?”

“We’d need to reach the communications hub first. Without the communications relay, we can’t get a message off this station and it can’t be accessed remotely.”

“Damn,” Abby leans against the wall while Tim continues to work on the control panel.

Tim glances briefly at her before returning to the task at hand. “How critical is it for you to be able to send a message planetside?”

“Scale of one to ten? A solid seven.” Abby replies. “I know you have a thousand things on your mind right now but it might save us a lot of grief in the long run.”

“I’ll make it a priority. For now, we need to get you somewhere safe.”

A few moments of tinkering later the door’s open.

Tim grabs her and pulls them both through the door before the bulkhead slams shut again.

* * *

15 seconds.

That was how long it took him to reach Jason’s room once the alarm sounded. 15 seconds since the video feed from that room cut out.

15 seconds is all it took for Jason to disappear.

Batman places his hand on the bed where Jason was lying less than a minute ago. Seemingly unconscious with no signs that he was coming around.

The sensors in the suit register the residual heat from the sheets. Rapidly dissipating now that the heat source was gone.

In 15 seconds, Jason had removed his restraints, removed his IV, pried open the grate in the ceiling, and escaped. All while hiding his heat trail.

Batman watches though the cowl’s sensors as three sets of glowing red handprints, all pointing in different directions, slowly fade into nothing.

His first instinct is to chase after Jason. His second instinct is to berate himself for not standing guard and giving Jason enough room to escape in the first place.

He takes a deep breath and shoves those feelings down. He reminds himself that crowding Jason while he’s injured would have only made things worse. That he sent for Dr. Atwood for a reason. He will not keep making the same mistake.

Jason’s doing what he was trained to do. He’ll disappear and regroup. Trying to hunt him down now would be futile and risk driving Jason away.

He can’t afford that.

Once the Watchtower’s been secured he’ll worry about finding Jason. Right now, he has to stop this crisis.

The alarm cuts out and a bulkhead slams shut over the entrance to the room.

Before it gets any worse.

* * *

“Lockdown is in place.”

“Breach of the computer core imminent.”

“Good, once we’re through that door. The Justice League is as good as dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you in December :)


	4. Into the Abyss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say December? What I meant was I'll have it for you tomorrow because I'm going to write the entire chapter in a single day like a madwoman. *flails*
> 
> No, I don't know why either it just happened! Oh well, enjoy!

You have _got_ to be kidding me!

Jason stares from his perch overlooking the entrance to the computer core. Watching as a four-man squad slowly bores their way through the lockdown bolts on the blast doors blocking the way inside.

At first glance, they looked like professionals, simple paramilitary gear, no logos, faces covered. They moved with a precision that only comes from long practice but that’s where the professionalism ends. They’re cocky, arrogance radiates from every movement. Jason’s seen this in heist crews before. They go so long without running into any trouble they start to think that they can tackle anything so they bid on a big job, high on adrenaline and their own success. Loose cannons with something to prove.

Their’s no way they made it onto the Watchtower on their own. No way they found out about the Lockdown protocol or how to activate it by themselves. Someone’s funding this expedition, someone with resources and top-secret information. Someone who couldn’t care less about the League raining Hell down on them in reprisal.

This has Amanda Waller’s fingerprints all over it.

The sound of high-powered laser drills cuts out. Two men back away from the door, dropping the tools while the other two move forward and place devices on the door.

One of the guys who stepped away turns to the other, “So, is the bet still on?”

“What, you trying to back out?”

“Hey, I’m trying to give you an out man. You can’t really believe that Lex Luther is Batman.”

Jason freezes.

“Come on have you ever seen Batman glare at Superman? Tell me that’s not pure unbridled hate.”

“Man you are going to be so disappointed when we get that door open and find out who’s really under the cowl.”

They continue to bicker as Jason watches from above.

They’re going after secret identities.

Bright green rage starts to creep into around the corners of his eyes.

Oh, Hell no. This is not happening.

Whatever he thinks of the League, whatever happened before he woke up on the Watchtower, This. Is not. Happening.

Jason braces himself as the charges are set and the crew falls back.

“Safeties off! Detonation in three, two...”

One.

* * *

“Alright, that’s everyone.” Red Robin says as he connects Batman, Superman, Green Lantern and Black Canary’s signals to the coms. It took a while but he finally has everyone linked to the same system.

“Here’s what I know so far.” He starts his report. “The breach occurred in the level 10 hanger. The insurgents triggered the Lockdown protocol on entry and made their way to the computer core entrance. Sensors indicate they’re still there now.”

Batman’s line flicks on. “Everyone, head for the computer core but keep your distance until Red Robin gets us a visual.”

It takes Tim all of ten seconds to reactivate the cameras. “I’m sending it to everyone now.”

The feed from the entrance to the computer core appears on the screen in front of them.

They listen as two of the men joke about finally finding out who the members of the Justice League really are.

“They’re after secret identities?” Canary hisses.

“No time for subtlety.” Lantern growls as the sound of twisting metal rings over the coms.

The sound is echoed on Superman’s line. “We’ll move as fast as we can. Red, how much time do we have?”

“None, they’re preparing the breaching charges now!”

Tim watches helplessly as the devices detonate, tearing the heavy blast door to shreds.

The team moves forward only for a second detonation to hurl them off their feet.

Jason surges out of the shadows, sprinting past the stunned men and into the computer core.

He runs to the main console and slams his hand down on the control panel.

“Emergency data wipe, authorization Robin WE3567.” He orders as the monitor spring to life.

“Code recognized. Initiating Emergency data wipe now.”

Jason pulls his hand off the console and spins around only for metal staples to fly from the entrance and pin him to the computer console.

Tim watches in horror as the strike team surrounds him. Staple guns at the ready.

Tim’s mind is racing. Jason could have taken those guys out easily, so why did he-

Tim’s mind screeches to a halt.

_ Oh- _

The tower sensors were still on the fritz. Jason knew that he couldn’t get accurate intelligence on the enemy. For all, they know that team could have been a diversion, or have metahuman back up waiting or a million other things that made would have resulted in the loss of the data if Jason had chosen to engage the strike team.

Jason chose the only option that he knew would keep the data out of enemy hands.

He sacrificed himself to erase the data before it could be compromised.

He sacrificed himself to save the Justice League.

On the other side of the tower, Batman makes the same connection.

“Everyone, get to the computer core, now!”

* * *

Jason’s back slams into the computer console as metal staples pin his limbs against the unyielding metal.

The leader’s in his face in seconds.

“What the _ Hell _ did you just do!”

Jason grins up the figure looming over him. “What does it look like? I activated the acid lock-on the computer core. Sorry to disappoint but those names you wanted? They’re nothing but atoms now.”

A backhand cracks across Jason’s face.

“You think this is funny?! Do you have _ any _ idea who you’re messing with?”

Jason shrugs. “Nope.”

A knife drives down just inches from Jason’s head. “Tough guy huh? Well, in that case, we’ll just have to carve the names out of you.”

Jason grins. “Look at you trying to be scary. Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve seen scary, and you? You don’t have his smile. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

The leader takes a step back. “I can’t believe this. You’re protecting the League. _You,_ of all people. I know who you are Ghost, or should I say, _Red Hood._”

Jason bites back a sigh. He knew someone would put it together eventually, but a bunch of amateurs? That just hurts. “Yeah, and?”

“Do I _really _have to remind you where you stand? You’re their enemy, one of the bad guys! You escaped from Arkham, you really think they’re just going to let that go? The second they get what they want from you they’re going to throw you right back in prison. This is shot at taking the entire Justice League down for good and you're throwing it away?!”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You really think I don’t know what your game is? Please, we both know you’re not targeting the Justice League.”

“I didn’t invade the Watchtower for stargazing.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re after their families, their friends, the people who they pass on the street. You’re not after the secret identities of the League so you can target them. You want to kill everyone around them.”

“And? Why do you care?”

Jason barks out a laugh. “Why? Oh wow, you guys have really not done your homework. Time for a history lesson boys, I didn’t escape from Arkham on my own two feet. Joker _took_ me. He took and hid me away, where no one would ever bother to look and no one could hear me scream. Joker tortured me for a _year._ Not because of the damage I did to his operation, not because of all the times I tried to kill him. No, he tortured me for Batman, he carved messages into my skin for Batman, He dressed his goons up like Batman had them beat me senseless then put a gun in my hand and had me shoot them dead for _ Batman!_”

Jason glares up at his captors. “Get the picture?”

The leader growls and turns to the rest of his men.

“We don’t have time for this! You, do what you have to do.”

One of the other agents steps forward and places a hand against Jason’s temple. Jason stiffens as something starts pushing against the walls he’s built up around his mind.

Telepath, _ Fuck._

“Yeah, you really don’t want to dig around in there.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

_ CRACK _

Jason reels as something slams against his defenses.

The second blow comes, a third. Fissures split open.

Sharp claws pierce deep into the cracks of Jason’s mind.

Screams rip through the night.

* * *

Batman watches helplessly as his son screams in pain.

Behind him, Clark and Jordon tear through another bulkhead but the work is slow. To slow.

Dinah stands at his side, tense as a bowstring. Watching as Jason convulses and curls in on himself.

Then Jason lunges forward. His head collides with his tortures’. Sends the man stumbling back.

“That… all you got.” Jason spits as blood runs down his chin.

The telepath growls and grabs Jason’s head with both hands. Jason’s body slams back against the computer console as he fights against the restraints.

Bloody tears run down Jason’s cheeks. His entire body shakes as his chest heaves. Bloodshot eyes roll back as another scream tears through the air.

Another bulkhead flies off its hinges.

* * *

On the other side of the tower, Abby’s counting the seconds.

It only confirms what she already knows.

“Red, you need to get to the communications hub.”

* * *

It’s all Jason can do to slow him down.

His mental landscape is in ruins. Jason stands in the middle of the rubble watching as scars open in the starless night sky. Once that falls all that will be left is the heavy doors that keep the worst of himself locked away.

The sky splits open.

The first door begins to give.

Damn it all this guy’s been trained and trained well. He’s barreling through Jason’s defenses with all the subtlety of a charging Bane. This isn’t an interrogation, it’s a butchering. They’ll carve up his mind tear out the information without a second thought. This type of mental intrusion is almost impossible to defend against and could leave him as a vegetable.

The only way to defend against this kind of assault is to go into a deep trance. To render yourself brain dead and pray that you can put the pieces back together later.

Before Arkham Jason would have happily pulled the plug to hell with the consequences. Now? God damned clown, making his life difficult from a coma.

Another door crumbles to dust.

Jason grits his teeth and tries to hold on.

There’s no way in Hell they’ll be able to extract any secret identities from his mind. That’s buried deep, behind walls of nightmares and trauma. Even if they make it through they won’t be sane by the end of it, he made sure of that. That’s not what he’s worried about.

Jason jerks back as another barrier falls. He throws up another one on instinct but he can already feel it behind him.

That damn room.

He can’t hold his ground. Jason finds himself being forced back and back.

His foot lands on a tile floor.

NO.

Jason throws everything he has left. A last desperate attempt to kick the intruder out of his mind.

It’s thrown back at him.

Jason flys off his feet straight into the stone wall behind him. Chains rise and lock him into place.

Jason throws his weight against the chains. No dice.

God damn it, not here.

Yellowed tile, cracked stone walls, those inane circles scattered throughout the room.

Jason finally lets his gaze rest on the center of the room. Of the figure sitting there in a torn, bloody, Arkham jumpsuit. Bag over his head, chains holding his hands behind his back. Slumped in a metal folding chair. Dead to the world.

A year of his life that he had locked away. Finally unearthed by some idiot who doesn’t even know what he’s done.

This is bad.

“The hell is this?”

The telepath walks into the room. “This is what you locked up? Your stint in Arkham? Damn, I was expecting something interesting.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Jason says dryly. “The info you’re looking for is back there by the way.” Jason jerks his head at the wrought iron door behind the slumped figure. “Just watch out for the clowns, they bite.”

“Yeah, I know that. I know how to reach the depths of a person’s mind. It’s always a labyrinth full of your darkest, most twisted thoughts. Anyone with any kind of training knows to hide all their dirty little secrets in that hole.”

The telepath walks up to the figure. “So if all your nightmares are back there, what’s this?”

“That’s the reason I didn’t pull the plug and go brain dead.” Jason snaps, willing the telepath to just keep walking. “You wake him up and you and all your buddies are dead!”

“I’ll judge that for myself, thanks.” The telepath reaches out and pulls the bag off the figure’s head.

For a moment, nothing happens. Jason stares into the sleeping face, his face, and prays.

The figure slowly raises his head.

Blue eyes open.

Bloodstained lips twitch into a grin.

The black iron gates fly open.

Chains _snap._

The figure surges up, hands sink into either side of the telepaths face.

“Welcome to Hell.”

Jason watches as the room flips on its side and they fall straight back into the black abyss behind them.

The gates slam shut.

Jason feels the telepath’s mind torn asunder. A sickening snap reverberates through him as the chains holding him disappear.

Jason immediately falls to his knees and slams his hands on the tile. He has to rebuild his walls and _fast. _

He wills the broken doors to rise again. The vault door at the entrance of the room begins to slowly piece itself back together.

One by one, the broken doors rise. Sealing off the way to the surface.

It’s not enough.

It has to be.

He’s out of time.

The black iron gates fly open and the figure walks through.

Jason struggles to his feet.

The tile shatters under the figure’s feet as he walks. The room breaks apart as pieces of debris rise and flies towards the figure. Circling him, fusing together. Black planes of armor rising from his feet, across his chest, raising into to points on either side of his head.

Within seconds the room is gone, leaving them standing in the center of a black endless void.

“Hello, Ghost.” his opponent’s mechanical voice growls.

Jason grits his teeth. “The Arkham Knight.”

The Knight’s fast. Jason manages to dodge the first blow. He can’t dodge the second.

The fight is brutal and dirty, Jason’s barely holding his own. Being forced back again and again-

Jason steps back into open air.

He desperately tries to right himself- A heavy boot slams into his ribs and Jason’s falling backward.

His back hits the ground, driving the air from his lungs. Short wooden panel rise on either side of him. The Arkham Knight stands six feet above him. One hand on the lid on the coffin-

_ Coffin- _

“No!” Jason surges up only for the lid to slam down, driving him into the dark.

“NO!” Jason roars as he pounds on the lid. Not again!

A small window in front of Jason’s eyes snaps open.

Glowing blue eyes stare back.

“Oh, don’t worry. You get to watch.”

The Arkham Knight turns away. One by one, the doors fall. With every step, The Knight gets closer and closer to the surface.

Jason drives his fingernails deep into the wood.

NO! Goddamn it! NO!

Not Again!

_ I won’t let you hurt her again! _

* * *

In the Watchtower computer core, the telepath collapses, lifeless. Blood pouring from his ears and mouth.

Slumped against the computer console, Jason’s eyes snap open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
...  
...
> 
> I'm going to go hide now.
> 
> (Mwah hahahaha!)


	5. In the Eye of the Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I survived NaNoWriMo!
> 
> I didn't win but I survived- kinda.
> 
> Protip, don't do NaNoWriMo when you're starting a new job. You will get burn out and viscerally not want to write for a month.
> 
> So yay new chapter. Enjoy!

The telepath’s body slumps to the ground. Blood pours from his ears and mouth as the whites of his unseeing eyes turn red.

Jason’s eyes snap open.

The rest of the squad immediately stumbles back. “What the hell did you do to him?!” The leader demands, leveling his gun at Jason’s head.

Jason tilts his head back and looks the squad leader up and down.

Jason’s calculating look sharpens then dissipates as he huffs in amusement. Briefly revealing bloody teeth that stand in sharp constant to the bloody tear tracks that streak down his face.

“You think you’re in control, don’t you?” Jason asks, his words disturbingly even.

The leader takes another step forward. “Don’t you-

The leader’s head snaps back as the heel of Jason’s boot drives into his throat.

He’s dead before he hits the ground.

The other two jerk back as their leader’s body hits the ground with a sickening thud.

Jason lunges forward. The metal staples that had pinned his arms to the computer console are wrenched from the metal. They clatter to the floor as Jason lands in a crouch not even four feet away from the two remaining men.

The first shots go high.

They’re dead before they can take a second.

* * *

On the other side of the watchtower, Abby watches as two more bodies hit the floor.

She watches as Jason stands over the bodies. She can see his eyes.

Even through the grainy video feed, she can see it clear as day.

It’s too late.

* * *

Something is wrong.

Batman can feel a numb horror settle over him as he watches his son murder three men before his eyes.

He should be planning. Devising the best way to stop him. Jason killed three men on the watchtower with multiple members of the Justice League as witnesses. He cannot let Jason just walk away. He has to chase him. If he doesn’t go after him someone else will. Someone who doesn’t understand the minefield that they are about to walk into and make things infinitely worse. He should be planning on how to keep Jason in his custody and out of Belle Rev and Amanda Waller’s clutches. On making sure he’s transferred to Blackgate, not Arkham, never Arkham, not again. To make sure that Abby has full access to him. To set aside every bit of rage and guilt between them and do his job right and treat Jason just like anyone else he brings in. Fair and impartially with every right afforded to him. He owes him that much.

Only that train of through ends before it can even begin.

Something is wrong.

The dead telepath is the most damning piece of evidence.

Yet he can’t tear his eyes away from Jason.

Some buried primal instinct in the back of his mind is screaming.

Something is wrong.

Abby’s voice breaks through the coms. “All of you, fall back. You’re too late.”

There’s something grim in her voice buried under the professional tone.

She knows something.

“Too late for what?” Black Canary asks, confused and more than a little wary.

“It’s too late to help Ghost. We need to get off this station as fast as possible.”

“We can’t leave until the station is secured and all intruders are located, there could be more of them,” Jordan responds.

“We also have to apprehend Ghost.” Superman’s words have an apologetic sound to them.

That’s not what she’s worried about Batman realizes right before she responds.

“That’s not the issue here! Listen to me! That’s not-”

"Do you really want to finish that sentence, Atwood?"

A new voice comes over the coms and Batman feels his heart seize in his chest.

_ Jason? _

"Knight," Abby sighs. Seemingly not affected by the cold combative tone in Jason’s voice. Something Batman had never heard before, not even during Red Hood’s initial return to Gotham when Jason’s rage against him was at his peak.

"I know what you're trying to do.” Jason continues, “Usually, I'd put a stop to it with a well-placed bullet but you? You're an actual good person. Unlike everyone else up here. So I’ll make you a deal. If you keep your mouth shut you'll get out of this without a scratch. But if you keep talking I’ll kill you first."

"I'd rather take a stand and die than cower and live in shame. You know that."

“Fair enough, can’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

All the coms go dead at once.

* * *

Blackout protocol. All internal communication is cut off.

Abby’s fingers tighten around her communicator.

He’s coming after her. Again.

She can’t bank on being rescued again. Everyone else on the Watchtower doesn’t know what’s going on and those who do are planetside and don’t know that anything is wrong.

She has to get to the Arkham Knight first. She has to try to slow him down. If the others find him first, they're going to be flattened.

If she can’t, then Batman is as good as dead.

* * *

Batman’s mind is racing even as the last doors between them and the computer core begin to fall away.

That’s not Jason, that can’t be Jason. He would never threaten Abby or any other civilian.

Something is wrong.

_ That’s not the issue here! Listen to me! That’s not- _

She knew. She knew before Jason said a word.

Abby knows what’s wrong with Jason. She’s the only one who knows what’s going on.

Jason stopped her from speaking. He said that he would kill her if she talked.

She knows how to stop him.

He’s not going to be behind that door.

He’ll go after her first.

The last doors crash to the ground, they race into the computer core.

Four dead bodies and no sign of Jason.

Batman kneels next to the telepath’s body.

Unseeing bloodshot eyes stare back at him. Frozen in terror.

This man died while he was inside Jason’s head.

Jason’s been trained to resist mental intrusion both when he was Robin and later when he trained with the League of Shadows but not even Talia could have taught him something like this.

A non-telepath can improve their mental defenses and fortitude, they can lay traps and hide information, and in some circumstances counterattack but this is something else entirely.

A telepath being outright killed by a non-telepath during a mental intrusion is unheard of.

Only one other recorded incident even comes close.

In the early years of the Justice League J’onn tried to read the Joker’s mind and was immediately knocked out.

The initial revulsion from comparing his son to that monster quickly veers into guilt.

Joker had him for over a year. What did Joker do to him? Could Joker have done this? Put something- some programming into Jason’s head? Could Harley Quinn have put something in Jason’s head? Or is this completely unrelated?

Jason’s personality changed drastically after the telepath died and Abby saw it immediately. She told them to fall back, to get away from Jason.

She’s seen this before.

She worked with Jason for months after his escape from Arkham if anyone knows how his mind works it’s her.

With the Blackout Protocol activated he has no way to contact her or Red Robin.

He has to find her before Jason does.

“Secure the area and any other intruders you find. If you encounter Ghost do not engage, keep your distance. I’ll secure Dr. Atwood.”

“What?!” Black Canary turns to look at him. “The Watchtower isn’t secured yet and we’re completely blind! Splitting up is dangerous, if you run into trouble you could be easily overwhelmed.”

“We won’t be able to secure the tower until Ghost is in custody. Dr. Atwood is the key to getting him under control. We can’t prioritize one over the other. Red Robin and I will deal with Ghost, I’ll leave securing the tower to you.”

He's out the door before they can argue.

Jordan's voice barely reaches him as he rounds the corner. “Since when does he explain things?”

Clark's voice, “I don’t know.”

* * *

Jason slams his hands against the unyielding wood. "Damn it!"

He drops his head back against the hard ground underneath him.

Hard ground?

Jason jerks as he feels something crawl past his arm.

Something with too many legs.

Jason squeezes his eyes shut and suppresses a shudder.

Bugs were something he had to learn to endure when he was living on the streets. Like dumpster diving, and losing your gag reflex.

Just a part of life.

Until he woke up covered in them because Joker thought it would be funny to dump boxes of bugs in his cell.

_ Bugs for the birdie! Eat up! We have another big day ahead of us! _

And now, he was trapped in his mind, in a coffin, and surrounded by dirt and bugs.

The panic builds behind his eyes.

Only one thought keeps him grounded.

Abby.

She's out there, somewhere. Being hunted by the monster looking through his eyes. Again.

He can see flashes through the window above him. A window into his own hijacked mind.

He may be awake this time, able to watch the nightmare unfold before him, but he's just as helpless as last time. Just as useless! Back in control to late.

_ "Jason." Abby stretches out a hand towards him. Her other hand presses a cloth against the side of her throat. Fresh red stains burn against the white of the cloth, against the yellowing tiles of the floor. _

_ Against the gleaming silver of the knife Talia had wrenched from his grasp. _

No! He drives his fist into the wood above him. Not again. He can't let the Knight get anywhere near her.

Only he's trapped in a coffin and Talia's not here!

He had heard Batman's voice on the line as well as Canary's, Lantern's, and Superman's. All heavy hitters but the Arkham Knight is a complete unknown to them. If Black Bat was here she'd put it together the second she laid eyes on him but he can't bank on someone who might not even be on the watchtower. No, he's on his own. He has to stop the Arkham Knight by himself.

But he can't get out!

He slams his hand against the wood beneath him.

_ Wood? _

The bugs are gone.

Jason stares down at the wood paneling below him before looking back up at the coffin lid.

He squares his shoulders.

Ok, Todd. You can't get out of this box? Fine, so what can you do?

* * *

Practiced hands load the magazine. The snap echoes down the empty halls.

First Atwood, then Batman.

This ends tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say enjoy? I meant suffer.


	6. Villian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, You can thank Zootopon for this chapter. The latest cliffhanger in "Who I am. Who I'll Never Be." put me into a bit of a writing frenzy :)

She’s moving too slow.

Another door opens just long enough for Abby to slip through before it slams shut again.

She has no idea where she’s going.

Abby holds the door cracking device Red Robin had given her tight as she runs down the halls.

She just knows that she has to keep moving.

If she stands still the Arkham Knight will suspect something.

She might only get one shot at this.

She has to keep running like a scared rat in a maze.

He’ll find her. She just has to let him come to her.

Without letting him know that she’s waiting for him to come to her.

Otherwise, he’ll just cut his losses and kill her from a distance before she even knows he’s there.

If there’s one thing she can count on, it’s that the Arkham Knight likes to kill up close and personal.

He wants them to know exactly who killed them and why.

A leftover from how Jason operated when he just started out as the Red Hood. When he sought to terrify the opposing criminal organizations into submission. That tactic taken to it’s most extreme.

He wants to see the life drain out of her eyes, but he’ll kill her from a distance if he senses a trap.

So she runs.

* * *

They split up.

Batman looks over the control logs again.

One entry recorded into the room. Then an exit recorded out of the room. Then not a minute later another exit recorded on a different door.

Abby and Tim split up.

Why did they split up?

Batman looks over the timestamps. The first exit was made before the telepath had even died. The second exit was made moments after the Blackout protocol had been called.

Tim had left before the telepath died.

Abby is all alone.

Did Abby know what was going to happen to Jason even before the telepath died? Did she send him away? Why would he go? What did she tell him to make him leave before Jason had changed?

If Tim left before Jason hacked the coms then Jason doesn’t know that Tim is on the station.

Is Abby trying to distract Jason so Tim can act in secret?

Right now his questions can wait. Finding Abby is the top priority.

He hacks the door and disappears into the emergency lit halls.

* * *

Superman looks over the now unconscious bodies to two more infiltration teams.

With the main computer-core destroyed there’s no chance that they’ll get their hands on sensitive information but there are still a thousand other things they could get their hands on from advanced weapons to alien tech to control of the zeta tubes.

Securing the watchtower should be his only focus but his mind keeps going back to Jason.

What happened to him?

Superman remembers finding Jason’s body in the Himalayas. Seeing Jason’s face for the first time in years. Seeing all the scars as his armor was stripped away to get at his injuries.

That brand will haunt his nightmares. The letter J burned into the skin right below his left eye.

Like a signature.

He had tried to ask Batman about it when he had arrived at the watchtower, but before he could get the words out Batman asked him to go to Arkham and request Dr. Atwood’s assistance.

“Anyone else weirded out by all of this?” Jordan’s question broke him out of his train of thought.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Canary says as the last of the invaders are secured.

“I know this whole situation with Ghost is messed up, I don’t even want to know what happened inside that kid’s head for him to snap like that, but what is up with Bats?” Jordan asks as they move through the halls.

“I don’t know, I can’t quite put my finger on it but something is off,” Canary admits. “He’s too… Calm isn’t the right word. He did immediately take off on his own but It doesn’t sound like he’s trying to apprehend Ghost. He said that Dr. Atwood was the key to getting Ghost under control.”

“You both saw Ghosts scars,” Superman adds as they enter the generator room. “You heard what he said in the computer core. Joker _ took _ him. Again. Ghost was being tortured under Batman’s nose for a year. That is going to have a huge effect on both of them. The last thing Batman would want to do is throw Ghost back in prison and make this situation even worse.”

“But for how long?” Jordan asks. “Yeah, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. He’s explaining things and he even called an expert for help, he actually called a psychologist. Him. Mister, I wouldn’t understand mental health concerns if it smacked me in the face. I’m worried about what happens when he goes back to a brooding, uncommunicating, emotionally stunted stone wall.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Canary sighs, “For now, we should encourage this behavior-”

“Don’t bother.” A new voice has them all spinning around.

Jason is sitting against the base of the main generator. His focus is on some device in his hands. His eyes narrow as he adjusts something inside the device.

Jason doesn’t so much as glance up ask he speaks. “He’s not going to change. Do you really think this new openness is going to last? Don’t kid yourself. He’s never been out for anyone but himself. Protecting the weak and the helpless? Don’t make me laugh. No, he’s all about punishing the guilty. That whole truth and justice thing only goes as far as he wants it to go and it ends right where he wants it to end. He put me in _ Arkham. _ He gave me to the Joker on a silver platter. Where was the justice in that, huh? If he wants me dead so damn badly he could at least kill me himself instead of trying to get Joker to do it for him but no, he can’t bend the truth and justice line quite that far.”

Jason pockets the device and rises to his feet.

“He should have killed me when he had the chance. He dies tonight, and you can’t stop me.” Jason raises his chin and stares them down. “So what’s it going to be?”

Superman sees the unbridled hate and rage in Jason’s eyes and gestures for Green Lantern and Black Canary to let him handle this.

He takes a step forward.

“Ghost- No, Jason. I can’t even imagine what Joker put you through. You have every right to be angry, what you’ve gone through no one should have to endure, but killing your father isn’t going to make the pain and rage go away.”

“You can stop this vendetta now before anyone else gets hurt. You’ll be under my protection. You won’t be sent back to Arkham or to anywhere else. I’ll make sure that Batman keeps his distance. You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. We can figure this out, all of us together.”

For the longest moment. Jason just watches him. His face closed off and unreadable.

Then he starts to laugh.

It starts slow but in seconds Jason is leaning against the generator howling with laughter.

The tension builds with every second as hysterical laughter bounces off the walls.

After a terrifyingly long minute, Jason once again straightens up.

He grins, sharp and manic.

“You know, I was _ really _ hoping you’d say that.”

Jason slams his fist into the control panel by the generator. Alarms blare as the blast shields around the generator begin to recede.

The generator that powers the watchtower is old Kryptonian technology. An artificial star. Sealed behind layers of specially made reinforced glass it’s no more dangerous than sunbathing on earth.

Superman stumbles back the moment the light from the star hits him.

The star isn’t yellow anymore.

It’s red.

His strength evaporates under the light of the red sun.

Green Lantern and Black Canary surge forward.

A hard light construct slams Jason into the glass, pinning him.

Three smoke pellets detonate against the floor. Leaving Jason’s hand only moments before a sphere of green light envelopes him. A sickly yellow mist floods the room. To little to late.

Superman breathes a sigh of relief. They got him. It was close but they got him.

The hard light sphere flickers.

Jordon curses, trying to maintain the sphere.

“What’s the matter Jordan?” Jason asks, a hard twisted edge to his voice. “Scared?”

Hal grits his teeth as beads of sweat drip down his face. “What the hell did you-”

The sphere disappears.

Jason lunges for Jordan but Dinah intercepts him. She forces him back as Hal is forced to land. The green glow disappearing as he stares desperately at his ring.

A sharp note rips through the air, then the sound of kevlar slamming into flesh. Superman’s eyes snap back to the fight. Black Canary is stumbling back, her hands clutching her throat. Her canary cry silenced before it could begin with a fist to her windpipe.

Jason presses his advantage driving her back and back. Superman tries to move to help her only his body doesn’t respond. His feet stay rooted to the spot even as a weakness begins to spread through him.

He falls to one knee just as Jason knocks Black Canary off balance. Jason surges forward, his arms wrap around her neck in a chokehold. In seconds she’s unconscious on the floor.

Jason advances on Hal but the man doesn’t seem to be aware of what’s happening. He just stares at his hands. His breathing erratic and his eyes wide and unseeing behind the mask.

Jason drives his forearm into the side of Hal’s neck and he drops like a stone.

Jason turns his attention to Superman.

Jason drives the heel of his boot into Superman’s side, sending him sprawling across the cold metal floor.

Superman wills his body to move only nothing happens.

It’s like he’s frozen in fear.

Jason looms over him.

“Feel that? That’s the fear gas I’ve mixed into my smoke pellets. I’ve bet you’ve never experienced fear gas before, Kryptonian physiology and all. Even under a red sun, it doesn’t seem to affect you as much as your average human. Must be the different brain chemistry. Don’t tell Scarecrow, if he finds out he’ll whip up a batch special just for you and trust me, you _ really _ don’t want that.”

With that Jason steps over Superman’s twitching form. Walking out of the generator room without looking back.

The bulkhead slams shut behind him.

* * *

Deep in the recess of Jason’s mind the Arkham Knight stands over an open grave.

Jason can just make out his silhouette from the small window in the lid of the coffin. Looming over him from six feet up.

“You’re just going to stand there?” Jason calls out. “What’s the matter? Am I getting to you? You didn’t seriously expect me to just sit here and let take over without a fight did you?”

The Arkham Knight lets out a hollow laugh. “I was going to make you watch as I killed her but you’re too dangerous to be left alone. If you had thrown me off a single second more those smoke bombs would have exploded inside that bubble and it would have been all over. I can’t risk giving you a single inch.”

The Arkham Knight raised his hand and the sounds of heavy machinery begin to spin up.

Jason only has a second before the confusion turns to dawning horror.

A mound of dirt slams into the wood above him.

The wood begins to bend under the weight.

The lid of the coffin splinters.

The dirt pours in.

The last cries of resistance suffocate under a mountain of damp earth.


	7. Hold On, Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Happy really late new year!

Blank hallways after blank hallways.

It feels like she’s running in circles.

What if he’s not coming after her?

The thought has her stumbling to a stop, leaning against one of the omnipresent grey walls as she tries to catch her breath.

The Arkham Knight said that he would kill her first. Could that just have been a smokescreen? He said those words with multiple members of the Justice League listening. Was he just trying to throw them off?

Damn it.

She rests her forehead against the cool metal wall. The Arkham Knight is awake again. The last time that happened Jason was still recovering from his stint in Arkham. Injured and prone to dissociation. The Knight had been confused and angry, barely lucid. He wanted Batman dead and saw her as a threat to that goal.

The thin silvery line along the side of her throat, right above her collar bone, was proof of that.

If Talia had come through that door a single second later…

She should be terrified. If he gets his hands on her again it’s over.

Only this time it’s not just the two of them in her apartment. Others are caught in the crossfire. She is the best chance of slowing him down. If she can get in the same room as him she might be able to stall him. If she can just get him talking she’ll have a fighting chance.

And if she can’t? Well, maybe her death will be enough to shock Jason back into control

Grim determination builds even as ice-cold dread rushes through her veins.

She pushes off the wall and pulls the door-cracking device out of the pocket of her lab coat.

All she can do is keep moving and hope that the Arkham Knight finds her before anyone else finds him first.

She stops in front of another sealed door and attaches the device to the control panel-

CRACK

The device flies out of her hands. It slams into the floor. Bits of plastic and metal scattering in all directions.

The scent of gunpowder fills the air.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

Abby fights back a shiver at the quiet threat in those words. Slowly, she turns around.

Cool blue eyes stare back at her.

She almost wishes they were green. She can talk him down from a Lazurus fueled rage without a problem. The Arkham Knight is something else entirely.

The Arkham Knight is a wildfire set with napalm. His rage and fire burn hot and fast. It destroys everything in its path, setting off more and more explosions as it burns. The Jason she knows is a focused laser. All that fire and rage focused into one single burning ray. The difference between a scalpel and a hammer drenched in gasoline. One good spark and the Arkham Knight will burn alive taking everything and everyone down with him.

Kill Batman. That’s all he cares about. It’s his mission. It’s who he is. Batman will die and he will be the one to kill him. Those are the Arkham Knight’s only constants. Anything else is just more variables to be swapped out as the situation changes.

No one can brainwash quite like Harley Quinn. No need for specialized pollen or mind-controlling hats. She dug right down to the core of Jason’s psyche and got to work. It takes months and only produces one brainwashed soldier but that one pawn can’t be snapped out of it with an emp or antidote.

Brainwash the right man and you’ve completely reset the balance of power in Joker’s twisted little game.

Until Abby came along.

The Bats are completely unequipped to handle a brainwashed enemy. They can destroy Mad-Hatter’s hats and counter Ivy’s venom with ease but the phrase "long term mental health care" is not in their vocabulary. Almost all of them have untreated mental stress and stand-alone complexes. They can barely take care of their own mental health let alone help someone else. They don’t have the patience or the training for it.

But Abby does. She has the training, patience, and the background to help someone who has undergone mental torture at the hands of a trained psychologist.

That’s what makes her such a threat to the Arkham Knight.

While Jason was recovering at her apartment. While they were slowly untangling the mess Joker had made of Jason’s mind, slowly dissecting and addressing Jason’s rage at Batman, Jason came to a realization.

He didn’t want to kill Batman.

He told her how Joker would dress up some of his goons like Batman. How they would beat him and beat him until Jason finally got free of his chains. Then the tables would turn it would be Batman who was beaten and broken at his feet.

Jason told her how Joker would put a gun in his hand and then he would shoot Batman dead.

Harley had praised him. She told him that he was the only thing protecting this town from Batman.

Arkham’s Knight in shining armor.

Only there was a little hitch.

During the sessions, Joker would always drug him with some light hallucinogens. To make him believe that he was fighting Batman.

But part of him always knew that it wasn’t the real Batman. When he pulled the trigger part of him always knew that it wasn’t Batman he had killed, but the rest of him? The part of him that thought that it was Batman dead by his hand? That part thought that it was too quick.

If Batman was dead then he was dead and at peace and that was a problem.

If Batman was dead then he couldn’t suffer.

Jason didn’t want Batman dead. He never wanted Batman dead. Not even when he was first starting as the Red Hood and running on pain and anger. It just took him a while to realize it.

That’s what Jason told her. Only that wasn’t completely true. Part of him did want Batman dead.

The person he became to survive Arkham wanted Batman dead. Joker made Jason want to  _ want _ Batman dead. No matter what it took. No matter who it took.

By helping Jason untangle the mess Harley had made of his mind Abby was making it easier for Jason to not want Batman dead.

That makes her a threat to his survival.

It’s simple math with a simple solution.

She has to die.

Abby idly tracks the gun that’s pointed at her out of the corner of her eye. Her real focus is on the man holding it.

The Arkham Knight is a part of Jason. He is less of another personality and more of an emergency backup system. He is Jason in that cell under Arkham, desperate and alone. Seeing the world around him through a rapidly shuttering lense as he tries to stay sane. All of his survival instincts screaming. Hanging on by a thread as he wonders why he’s even bothering to put up a fight?

Who are you in the dark? Just what will you do to survive? Will you even recognize the person you see in the mirror?

Just what are you willing to become?

What will follow you out of the dark?

If you’re lucky you’ll go your entire life without having to answer that question.

And neither of them had been lucky.

“How did you get out?” Abby asks. Keeping her voice calm and light.

“What do you care?” The words are hard and cold. Rage and fire roiling just beneath the surface.

A single spark is all she needs.

“Professional curiosity?” Abby responds easily. “Talia said that you were locked away for good. Seeing as that has been disproven I’m wondering how you broke out. From what she told me you should have stayed sleeping for the rest of Jason’s life.”

“Not her first mistake.” The Knight retorts. “She underestimated me, just like Bruce, just like you’re underestimating me right now!”

He takes a step forward. The cool barrel of the gun pressed against her temple. “You think I won’t pull the trigger?! You think I won’t kill you!”

“I know you’ll kill me,” Abby pulls at the collar of her white lab coat. Revealing the silver line of scar tissue over her carotid artery. “I have the proof right here.”

The Knight’s eyes snap to the scar on her neck. The fingers on the gun briefly flex and shift.

The index finger is still pressed against the barrel. Unmoving. Just as it was when she first turned around.

Gun safety 101. Don’t point a gun at anything you’re not prepared to kill and don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you’re aiming.

His finger is not on the trigger. Not even when the barrel of the gun is pressed to her head.

You could argue that he’s not technically aiming, or that he wants to intimidate her without the risk of killing her accidentally and assumed that she wouldn’t notice, but either way it’s a stretch.

A bigger stretch is that the Arkham Knight hasn’t noticed that his finger isn’t on the trigger.

Could Jason be awake in there?

If he is then she has more room to work with than she thought.

It’s a lot to gamble on something so small.

But she didn’t survive almost four years at Arkham by not knowing how to play the few cards she has.

Time to switch tactics.

“Why do you want me dead anyway?” She asks like her heart isn’t pounding against her ribs. “I thought it was only Batman you wanted dead?”

The Knight’s eyes snap back to hers.

“You know damn well why.” He growls.

She does, but that’s not the point.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to spell it out for me.”

Anger and annoyance flash across his features. “Spell it out- You want me to spell it out for you?! Fine.”

The pressure against her temple disappears.

The door next to them snaps open.

“Move.” He orders, shoving her through the door.

Abby just manages to stay on her feet as she’s forced into the room.

She straightens up only to stop short at the sight before her.

It was a garden. One that would make even Poison Ivy green with envy. Just from the sight alone, she could count three more levels below her, filled with green. A sanctuary, she would call it. Flowers and vines of every color, grass that truly was brighter on the other side, a small fountain decorated with mossy stones shot streams of water on the lowest platform. Abby could only marvel at it all. There were plants she didn’t even know.

Exotic, maybe? Alien? She’s not a botanist.

To put it simply; it was beautiful.

And just beyond the borders of the garden, fit snugly in a small open area with bean bags and coffee tables lined the way. A place of seclusion, away from the stress, the pain and the fear of being superheroes. Abby could see herself laying there, without a care in the world, because just beyond the floor to ceiling windows was the sight of something that could grip her heart and never let go.

A life spent in the smog-filled streets of Gotham hadn’t prepared her for the vision above her.

Was Earth always this bright?

When Superman had brought her here, it hadn’t hit her, for obvious reasons, but now it hit like a speeding bullet. She was standing at the edge of humanity, somewhere between the moon, the sun and the stars.

It’s a beautiful place to die.

There’s a presence behind her.

“Get distracted?”

Abby turns to face the Arkham Knight. His sidearm has been holstered.

Did he put his gun away because he realized that he couldn’t use it or because he doesn’t think he needs it?

“This isn’t the worst place to die.” She admits.

“No, it’s not.” His eyes unfocus for a moment before snapping back to hers. “Now where were we?”

“You’re going to kill me.”

“Right.”

The hand closes around her neck before she even registers the movement.

Her hands come up and wrap around his wrist on instinct but she doesn’t claw or try to pry his hand away.

She can see the cracks in the hard ice-cold mask that he’s desperately trying to maintain.

Just a little more.

“You want to know why you’re going to die? You know more about how my head works than anyone else on the planet. You think I’m just going to wait around while you decide to sell me out to Batman!”

What little certainty she has slipped away.

“Sell you out?” Abby just manages to keep the tremor out of her voice.

“Don’t even try to deny it! Don’t try to pretend that you won’t take his side in the end!”

She can see it building, years of pain and betrayal ready to breach the surface.

“Everyone always stands with him, every time! Doesn’t matter how far he’s gone, or who it’s hurt, or even if they disapprove of what he’s done. Everyone always sides with him!”

His head jerks down. Jaw tight. The fingers around her throat flex and shift but don’t press down.

His head comes up slowly. Shining blue eyes bore into her.

“They always take his side. Every. Time.”

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place as agony flows through the rapidly expanding cracks in his mask of anger.

Jason has grown and changed since the last time the Arkham Knight was awake. The Knight isn’t static, he adjusts to the immediate threat.

The Joker’s disapproval isn’t the biggest threat to Jason anymore. Batman’s disapproval is.

A history of paranoia and abandonment coming together at their most extreme. The long set precedent that everyone he trusts will eventually turn on him, sell him out, and throw him away.

Simple math with a simple solution.

She has to die.

Not like this.

Abby grabs his thumb and pulls back hard. The grip around her neck breaks as he recoils.

She shoves the hand away and steps back-

Into open air.

She watches Jason’s face as she falls. Shock, a step forward, arm outstretched, ready to jump after her.

Something slams into her from the side. Arms catch her, one under her knees and another around her back.

Her fingers clutch at black kevlar. A second impact knocks what little breath she has left from her lungs and everything stops.

Abby carefully raises her head. Her eyes fall on the bat symbol engraved into the armor of the person who caught her.

“Are you alright?” Batman asks as he sets her on her feet.

“No,” She says as she spins around. Searching for the eyes she knows are on her.

Three levels up Jason stares down at them.

The mask of ice-cold hatred is gone and whatever control he had has gone with it. Pure unfocused rage radiates from every inch of him. His finger on the trigger as he lines up the shot.

_ BANG _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Zootopon for the description of the garden. Thanks for the help! :)


	8. The Vengeful One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's been a while. This chapter really didn't want to be written but I finally wrestled it into submission.
> 
> I hope that everyone's doing ok out there, here's some more escapist fiction. I hope it makes things a little more bearable.

Batman shoves them both behind a stone outcropping. Bullets bury themselves in the soft ground where they had been standing just a moment ago.

Abby moves instinctively, pressing her back up against the cover and keeping her head down as he shields her with his cape.

The rain of bullets stops. Abby grabs his arm forcing him to look at her.

“Stall.” She orders, amber eyes boring into his. No trace of fear or doubt in her voice. Perfectly calm under fire.

The sound of a grapple gun rings out.

Abby darts under his arm, vaulting the stone outcropping and disappearing into the garden.

Batman surges to his feet, cape flaring out-

-mere seconds before Jason lands on the opposite side of him.

Time slows down. Jason rolls to absorb the impact. He comes out of the roll, arm sweeping out, a gleam of metal between his fingers.

Three shuriken sink into the rock where Batman had been standing a second before.

He dodges with only centimeters to spare. Perfect aim and power from an opponent who had only seconds to orient themselves.

“Jason wait!” Even as the words leave his lips he knows they’re futile.

“No.” Jason advances, no hesitation, no remorse, no fear.

Batman blocks the first blow. Dodges the second.

Jason doesn't falter. He just advances. With a single-minded drive, he forces Batman on the defensive.

Batman dodges another strike, he vaults a stone outcropping to try to get some distance.

“Jason-” He tries again, knowing that it’s futile but needing to buy time.

Jason charges. Too close to dodge.

Batman throws his body weight into the move using it to get some distance. He rolls to his feet just in time to block a kick to his ribs.

Jason refuses to let him get any distance between them. He constantly presses the attack. Not giving Batman any space to maneuver.

Cool blue eyes are trained on him with laser focus. Searching for openings or any sign of weakness.

They’ve fought countless times after Jason returned as the Red Hood.

This is different.

Batman side steps a blow, he rolls to the side as Jason’s fist slams into the concrete pillar that holds up one of the garden levels.

Jason doesn't falter, he doesn't react to the pain. He just turns and presses the attack.

Every instinct in Batman’s mind is screaming. Something is wrong. Something has gone wrong and he has no idea what it is or how to fix it.

Shuriken embed themselves into concrete and rock. He’s forced to deflect one with his gauntlets.

Jason’s adapting quickly. The margin for error erodes with every move.

It goes both ways.

A swing becomes a grapple becomes a contest of strength.

They’re face to face and evenly matched.

Jason throws his weight to one side.

_ POP! _

They fall.

Glass shatters beneath them. One of the many skylights in the garden breaks apart as they fall through.

They slam into the ground. The force of the impact shatters their hold on each other.

Batman triggers a smoke bomb. Fleeing to the shadows on instinct. They’ve fallen into one of the archive rooms. Towering servers and computer banks fill the room creating more than enough cover to disappear.

He’s vanished into the darkened corners of the room before Jason can get to his feet.

When the smoke clears Batman has a vantage point and Jason hasn't moved. He’s just kneeling in the same spot he landed with his eyes closed.

One hand closed around the bicep of his left arm, which hangs limp and clearly dislocated.

Jason had dislocated his arm to break the grapple and throw them both.

There’s another sickening pop as Jason shoves his shoulder back into place with one rough movement.

The pain should have sent him to the ground in agony.

He doesn't so much as flinch.

Just what has he endured?

Jason flips a device into the air.

The room goes black.

EMP Batman thinks grimly. The computer equipment is shielded but the lights aren’t. Even with the skylight broken above them the room is all but pitch black.

He flips on detective vision to see in the darkness but Jason has already disappeared from the center of the room.

Thanks to the layout of the room he can’t see all of it at once from his current vantage point. The shielding on the server towers also blocks detective vision.

Abby said to stall but he can’t risk waiting Jason out. He needs to find him and keep his attention.

Batman shifts slightly preparing to grapple to a different vantage point.

A slight whistle is his only warning.

Two shuriken embed themselves in the wall behind him as he drops down to the floor. Just avoiding the missiles.

More shuriken fly through the air.

Batman deflects the stars off his gauntlets.

He catches movement out of the corner of his eye. For the briefest moment, he sees Jason’s form flicker between the servers.

Shock rips through him.

Jason’s eyes are closed.

More shuriken fly through the air from the opposite side of the room.

There’s no pattern to Jason’s movements. Batman can’t pin him down. He can barely catch sight of him.

He deflects the next round of shuriken on instinct.

A mistake.

The force hurls him off his feet. His back slams against hard metal. Air explodes from his lungs.

His knees hit the floor, eyes unfocused, ears ringing.

Three broken ribs burn with each breath.

One wrong move and he’ll puncture a lung.

Concussion grenade at point-blank. His armor couldn’t protect him.

All of those shurikens…

Decoys.

Jason was planning this since the fight began. He had him in the palm of his hand the whole time-

**Crack!**

Batman slams onto his back. Unable to block the knee to his jaw.

His vision clears just in time to see Jason bearing down on him.

Weight slams into him. Jason uses his bulk to pin his arms to his sides.

Strong hands wrap around his throat. They find the weak points in the armor plates and dig in.

Pain explodes up the sides of his neck.

Blood choke-

20 seconds til death-

_ No! _

Batman surges up against Jason’s hold.

Jason slams him back onto the ground.

Another rib snaps. He can’t feel pain anymore.

15 seconds left-

He’s going to die.

Jason’s going to kill him.

_ No! _

_ Not like this. Not yet! _

10 seconds-

_ He has so many things he hadn't said, to Jason- to all of them! _

_ He has to tell him now. He doesn't have any time left. _

His lungs expand, he can’t feel the tearing of broken bone through tissue anymore. Air whistles through his windpipe and past his bloody teeth.

5 seconds-

He just has to get the words out-

“J-sn, s- pr-d -f y-.”

Surprise flickers across Jason’s features.

It’s the last thing he sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say I'm sorry but we all know I'm not ;)


End file.
